


The Dancing Flame of Memory

by starry_nights88



Category: Infernal Devices Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-27
Updated: 2013-06-27
Packaged: 2017-12-16 08:46:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/860214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starry_nights88/pseuds/starry_nights88
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Will's reaction to Jem coughing up blood/collapsing for the first time. </p>
<p>For Avari, from tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Dancing Flame of Memory

It had happened again, another fit; staining crimson sticking to fabric and skin alike, it was useless to change Jem's shirt when he'd wake up only to ruin it again by coughing, hacking, and spitting up more blood. His _parabatai_ was by his side, as he always was, keeping a vigil until Jem woke. Quietly, he sat by Jem's bedside as the night dragged on and he, William Herondale, sank deeper and deeper into the swirling darkness of his memories – the abyss only pierced by James; forever his light and silver lining, though even his memories of Jem was tinged with darkness as well.

 

He was rescued from his dark thoughts by the sound of the door opening. Sophie entered as quietly as a ghost, not saying anything or even acknowledging him – both so used to the other's presence when it came to Jem's illness – as she carried a pitcher and bucket to Jem's bedside, setting the pitcher on the bedside table and the bucket on the floor. Will watched her movements, lost in the monotony of her emptying and refilling the wash bowl to re-wet and replace the rag on Jem's feverish forehead, but it was that same monotony that kept him from, once again, sinking into his memories.

 

It would be the fire, freshly stoked to life by Sophie, that would prove to be his undoing – the dancing, flickering flames of heat seemingly hypnotizing him, opening him to a snowy evening when two shadowhunters were out prowling the streets for things that go bump in the night.

 

*

 

It was a demon, of that much Will was certain. He didn't, however, recognize the sort, but that might've been because he was far too busy dodging the beast's flailing, slime covered tentacles – slime, incidentally, that tended to burn like acid. In all honesty, it looked and smelled like something that had crawled out of the Thames.  "Jem!" he called over his shoulder to his _parabatai_ , the demon starting to overtake him. " _James_   – "

 

"I'm here," came Jem's choked reply, a hand pressed over his mouth and the other gripping a glowing seraph blade that came slashing down on the hulking beast, but Jem was a moment too slow and the monster lashed out. Its tentacle knocked the blade from Jem's hand and Jem to his knees. It was that momentary distraction that sealed Jem's fate and turned the demon's full attention to him. In a single sweeping motion, the tentacles changed direction and instead of going after Will, they went for Jem.

 

It was also just the distraction Will needed to reclaim his _parabatai's_ lost blade; it had fallen and skidded underneath the demon. Ceasing the opportunity that presented itself as it lumbered towards Jem, Will slide beneath the beast before snatching up the fallen blade. Then, without a moment of hesitation, he shoved it into the monster's gullet – accidently getting sprayed with its slime for his efforts, but at least the ghastly thing was dead, collapsing in on itself over Will until it had disappeared like it never existed in the first place. The only proof being the lingering smell and the insanely burning acid slime coating Will's face, arms, and chest, that the demon left behind.

 

Groaning softly, he fell back against the cobbled stone road, wriggling out of his jacket to wipe away the slime before it caused any serious damage before throwing the garment aside.  "Jem," he said after a beat, calling for his _parabatai's_ attention, and for the first time he noticed the coughing –

 

Loud – so loud, he wondered how he had missed it. Insistent hacking; it was bothersome. A shock. He pushed himself up. "Jem?" Will said, more urgent and concerned than he had been moments before.

 

But, Jem did not answer. He couldn't. Not through his coughing. His hand was clutched over his mouth, his other waving away Will's worry, and all the while Jem's eyes were clenched closed, his skin reddened around them.

 

"What is it?" Will demanded as he pushed himself up and, without any preamble, was by Jem's side in seconds. "What's the matter?"

 

Immediately, he feared the worst; what if some of the demonic slime had gotten into Jem's mouth, and what if he had swallowed it? Panicked, he reached for the hand over Jem's mouth. His slim fingers wrapped around the other boy's wrist before tugging it away. Jem put up no fight, no struggle, but he couldn't resist because he was still coughing – he had never stopped. He coughed, he hacked, and Will felt a spray of wetness across his face. He touched it, looked at it, and his eyes widened it shock.

 

Blood. It was blood.

 

Jem was coughing up blood, and as the realization settled, the color in Will's face drained away. His hand dropped to his side and he returned his attention to his wheezing, thankfully no longer coughing, partner. He didn't think, but Will never did when it came to Jem, he simply reacted. He reached forward again, grasping Jem's cheeks. "Did you swallow some of the demon's slime?" he asked, and Jem shook his head, still struggling to breath.

 

"It's the Yin Fen," Jem replied softly, his voice rough and raspy from the coughing, and his eyes were bloodshot and so dilated that his eyes looked black.

 

Will froze, his heart seizing in his chest at Jem's revelation. "James – " he started, but his _parabatai_ was quick to cut him off.

 

He shook his head slowly, almost painfully, his eyes half-lidded and hazy. "Not now," Jem pleaded softly as he leaned towards Will, resting his sweat-slick forehead against Will's shoulder. "Please not now, Will."

 

*

" – Will? Master Will?"

 

Sophie's voice called to him, pulling him from the memory and its cold, dark place inside of his mind, and back to the present, away from the night he finally learned just how serious Jem's condition was becoming. That night, so long ago, Jem's death had become a truly tangible reality when he passed out and wouldn't wake for hours on end. The next morning saw him pale-faced and gaunt, but smiling and laughing away Will's concern – reassuring him instead of taking Will's reassurance.

 

"Yes? What is it?" Will said, straightening up in the chair and looking at the young maid, but suddenly, she looked hesitant, less confident.

 

She looked as though she meant to say something, struggled with it, but in the end she remained quiet and simply bowed before making her exit. And, Will – he settled back into the chair, his gaze returning to Jem, and he waited, as he would for the rest of the night when, in the morning light, Jem would awaken once more. He'd smile, ask for breakfast, and then he'd spend the morning patiently listening to Will's worries, his reassurances before quietly explaining, once again, that his death was as inevitable as the setting sun.


End file.
